Fantasy vs Reality - The Book
by stride.for.victory
Summary: Samantha and Fred grew to be good freinds over the years. They go on a mini adventure back to the 1900's during Prohibition, and meet an interesting character that eventually exposes their feeling for one another, and brings them together. Purely FredxSamantha. Enjoy and review! :3
1. His Secret

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own anything from Time Warp Trio._

_This fanfic is purely Fred x Samantha. Don't like? Please don't read._

_The history mentioned in this story is factual, so you might learn something new!_

_Enjoy! :)_

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We were left alone in Sam's room while he and his family munched away at dinner. I had had half a pie of pizza with Joe at the pizzeria downtown, and washed it down with a tall jug of Peppi, so I wasn't hungry or thirsty one bit. Well, thirsty in the sense of everyday drinkable liquids.

I was stuck in the room with Samantha, and boy was I thirsty for her. She had warped back to help Sam and me out with the history project we were paired up and assigned to do. It was a drag to work on… but Samantha's presence made it a bit lighter of a tow.

Some years had passed, and the crew was now 16 and in high school. Weeeee… With our matured bodies and brains came perks: I had grown a solid _foot_ since 2005 (the current year was 2011), acquired a good deal of muscles courtesy of baseball, and had sprouted a few facial whiskers above my lip and on the sides of my masculine jaw. Also, as you may have noticed, my vocabulary evolved. But I only showed that part of my matured spectrum when I was in the mood, when I talk about important things or people. You'll see later on.

So, as I mentioned before, I was stuck in Sam's room with his great-granddaughter Samantha. The increase in age brought significant change to her as well. She finally untangled her hair out of those weird but "unique" bunches of hair that stuck out on the sides of her head and let it down. Her bangs were gracefully swept to her right ear, and half of her waist-long, numerously layered jet-black hair was pinned back with a bright orange, intricately designed clip. See, I told you guys my vocab had evolved. She still had that long orange shirt on, but the one she had on now, compared to the one she wore a couple years back, had a black lightning bolt on the side and sleeves that came down to her elbows. It still flowed effortlessly away from her body, but was slightly more feminine. She replaced her boot-cut jeans with black leggings that defined her elegant legs. Wait, did I just write that? Shit and I'm writing in pen…

She was cutting out the typed historical facts we needed to have and pasting them carefully onto the poster board that was mine and Sam's project. I watched her as she leaned back and forth, reaching for the proper place to paste and sitting back down on her feet to cut out the next fact. I thought to start up a conversation. The last thing we spoke about was how the Civil War was anything and everything _but_ civil, and then Sam got called for dinner.

I cleared my throat and began. "So, uh, how ya been?"

"Right," she agreed. "I don't think we had a casual conversation ever since I came." She pasted the next fact down, then took a break and leaned against Sam's bed. "I've been great actually. Did all my homework the first day of break, won the Science Olympiad Contest last week,"

"And congratulations to that." I cut in. Not that I cared about science—not one bit to be honest. I fell asleep in that class every day we had a double-period—but I figured it necessary to congratulate her.

She giggled and continued, "Thanks. Oh, and the new upgrade for my cat should be coming in today!" She wiggled her fingers in joy atop her knees as she told me.

"Oh right, your electronic, solar powered cat." I mocked.

"That's right!" She didn't notice.

"Oh the future of animals…" I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"What? They're much more entertaining to play with, and clean-up is virtually non-existent. _And_, they don't shed _and_ you can program them to be nice to everyone! Aw what? Bam!" She savored her victory.

"Alright, alright.~ You win, now sit down!" Samantha had gotten up to do a victory dance. What a character she was…

She laughed. "Sorry. Life has just been, smiling its rays of greatness on me." she told me as she drifted back down. "What about you?"

Sadly, I couldn't say the same. "Ah, I can't say the same… My brother left for the war over in Ukraine. He got drafted by the UN a week ago and, my mom and dad haven't been holding up all too well. We don't even know why! He was doing fine as a firefighter and then-" I threw my hands up and slapped them down in my lap in a combination of defeat and confusion.

"Oh, Fred…" She placed a warm hand on my shoulder. "I didn't know that they still drafted people in 2011." Samantha added.

"Apparently they do." I said, a bit too harshly than I meant to, but I was upset at having my own brother get taken away from me. Now losing a game station didn't seem as big of a deal.

Suddenly, Samantha wrapped her arms around my neck and shoulders and pulled me into an embrace. She smoothly whispered, "I'm sorry that happened." Her golden voice made the hairs on my neck dance, as if to jazz music, and a chill shot down my spine. But it was a good kind of chill, one that braces you for impact, one that brought a bright blush to my face and made my heart race as if to get that homerun. All I could utter was, "Thanks…for your sympathy." -and for the hug. I really needed that. But I didn't tell her.

She backed up, but kept the hand she had placed on my shoulder right where it was. She stiffened subtly and batted her lashes a few times. Did I tell you about those eyes? She had gotten contacts for her thirteenth birthday, and ever since then her emerald eyes shined brilliantly as if the sun was always positioned at the perfect angle and beamed its rays right through. They always caught me off guard.

Like now. "Uh, Fred? Are you alright?" she inquired. "You got a- a little something red on your cheek." She held back a laugh. It was visible.

'Dammit!' I thought to myself. "UH, it's nothing. I was just- I'm really mad that they took Mike away." I covered. It wasn't a total lie, but it wasn't true either.

Her grin vanished. "Oh. R- right."

I wanted to tell her—I've wanted to tell her for so long—but I just couldn't… I didn't know if she liked me back the same way, if she had someone else in her time—she most likely did, I mean, have you met her?—and I debated multiple times and decided that it would be completely against the rules of The Book to like someone who was born in a different time and _century_ than you. And I never bothered to ask Joe about it… So I left it alone, once again, at least for the time being. I couldn't keep it locked up inside there forever.

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_Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think or how I could improve. Read on peeps -_


	2. Cat Fight

I changed the subject. "But uh, on the bright side, I won the position of Team Captain for our school's baseball team!"

"Oh shit, how did that happen?" she laughed.

"Well, the previous Captain-" I paused as I caught something. "How did that happen, did you ask?"

"Yeah," I responded with an accusing look. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Are you questioning my skills?"

She raised a brow and kept a straight face and said, "Am I?"

I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head back as I continued slowly, "How dare you? Who do you think you are?"

"Who do _you _think you are? Bragging about 'winning' Team Captain?"

"Excuse me, I _earned_ that title."

She scoffed, "'Title.'"

I loved it so much when we played these games, just us.

Tensions were rising. "Excuse me Samantha do you wanna go?" I puffed my chest and shifted myself to face her, surely intimidating her. "Ya wanna go!"

She held her arms out wide. "Maybe I do! Where are we going?!" she spat, all in good fun.

"What have you ever earned in your life huh? What _titles_ do _you_ have?"

"Uh, how about 'History Hog' and 'Marshmallow Maniac'? Those are enough for me! _Fred_."

The way she said my name! It was so engaging and...well, inflaming.

Her face crept closer to mine as she spat another insult at me. "What about you, huh? The only title you have is 'Team Captain,' and that can be taken from you at any given moment." She tipped her head to the side and threw her hands in the air as she mouthed 'what?!'

Oh it was on. "Oh, yeah!? Well- well-" I devised the perfect insult: "Your cat is _stupid!_" I said it slowly and put a crisp on the words 'cat' and 'stupid,' just to get her where it hurts a little harder.

That brought her down off her pedestal. She gasped and raised her brows in surprise and a bit in hurt (dammit), but then furrowed them again as she said. "He is not, you take that _back._"

"He is too stupid." I pressed. 'He…' Well it's what I said in that moment, but the cat was really an 'it.'

"Fred, he is _not._" Her voice was hushed and stark and tryingly threatening.

"Prove it." I narrowed my eyes again and held my chin up.

"I swear, Fred. Cut it out or I'm gunna beat you up."

This should be fun. "Do it."

And she did. She pounced at me like a puma onto a lion and choked me on the carpeted floor, starting off with a swift punch to my face. "Ow!" She swung at me again, but I dodged it and she hit the floor instead. "Holy shit, you weren't kidding!" I laughed.

She slapped me in the mounted position she sat in and growled, "Of course I'm not kidding, you're making fun of my cat!"

I flipped her off of me with a simple twist of the hip. "But he's not even a _cat_!"

"He is too! You take that back!" she yelled as she punched me in the gut.

I pinned her arms down and she struggled to break free. "Samantha, we're fighting about the electronic excuse of a thing you call a cat! _Shut up_!" I laughed.

"Are you serious!?" she spat in my face as she shook from an overdose of rage.

This couldn't be a serious fight she was putting up, but I needed to watch what I started with girls. "Are _you_ serious?" She suddenly stopped fussing and looked me square in the eye, the spontaneously sparked fire burning out as she caught her breath. "_You're_ the civil one on the group. Or, maybe that's Joe." I looked to the side and debated. My mind was in a flurry.

"Thanks for confusing me with a guy." she sassed.

Shit. "No, no I wasn't…" I tried to fix, but her hair was scattered all around her face, and it simply distracted me. I shrugged, trying to shake myself from admiring her again. "I just… you…" We held eye contact for a moment too long, and the blush crept back to my cheeks. I wanted to tell her right then and there, but- the words wouldn't form…out of fear.

"Guys!" a voice suddenly blurted, shaking me from my hesitation and causing me to whip my head toward the door. "What's going on up there?!" The dining room was on the bottom floor of Sam's apartment.

I looked back at Samantha with a sure horrified face and jerked my hands off of her wrists in a jolt. "Sorry." I basically mumbled my apology out of shock as my eyes darted around the room and at her and finally at my hands. I was dazed and distorted. She sat back up and said the same, brushing her hair back and fixing it along with her shirt.

"Guys?" It was Sam who was asking.

"Uh, nothing! Fred was trying to warp somewhere again! It's fine now!" Samantha replied. I know what you're thinking, but talking about time warp openly was a normal thing now. All of us did it. One day when I was over at Joe's with Sam, he mentioned it and his mom actually wasn't surprised. He explained to us that he had told his parents and suggested we do the same, so we did. It saved the stress of keeping it under lock and key.

"Alright." Sam replied.

"Keep it down up there!" his mom called.

"Damn…" I muttered. She laughed nasally.

"I'm sorry." she began. "I don't usually get like that. I guess all the excitement just- built up in me and…" She looked at me with worried eyes as she fumbled with her nails.

"Nah, its fine." I limp-wristed. "I should be the one that's sorry. If your cat means so much to you, I'll shut up about him."

"I mean he _does_, but… I don't know. I didn't really want to fight you over that… I knew we were playing around and…Sorry, Fred." Her husky voice could never make you mad at her. It always made you feel sorry for her, at least a little.

"Don't worry about it. Really. I knew it was all in good fun." I played off.

She laughed. "Yeah…"

I looked back at the poster board. "So how far along are we with this?"

"Actually, it's almost done. Just uh, help me paste a few more of these facts on and, it'll be over with." She handed me a few sheets of paper and safety scissors. Yes, even at 16, Sam's parents still made him use safety scissors.

_Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think or how I could improve. Read on peeps -_


	3. Excitement and Gum

We sat in breathing silence for a while as we finished the project up. The silence was cut with a gruff snicker and a husky laugh from the only other person in the room. I looked up with surprised eyes and stopped cutting as a result.

She glanced at me and shook her head as she dismissively said, "Sorry," and resumed working on the board. Only briefly though; she did the same thing again a few moments later.

I looked up and widened my eyes again, adding a shake with my head. She watched my gesture as she laughed with her scissor hand over her mouth. "What's so funny?" I inquired.

"No, nothing…" she said between laughs. Her answering me made her laugh harder.

"Are you okay?" I asked with a sarcastically concerned face.

"Yes…" Laugh, laugh, wheeze, laugh…

"Did ya take the wrong pill, Samantha?" I asked it with the straightest face possible.

"Shhhhut up, Fred." She backhanded me on my arm.

I couldn't hold it back any more. I drifted in and joined her sudden laughing spree. She didn't need to explain why she started to laugh anymore. I got it. We sat there and chuckled and cackled like dopes for a solid 5 minutes.

Whatever Sam was going down at dinner, he could take his time doing.

I sighed after my gut started to hurt. "Ah—we're stupid."

She wiped her eye. "Just a little."

~~Samantha's POV~~

We laughed one last time before I straightened up. "Alright, let's shut up and get this done."

"Word." Fred agreed.

I never minded working on a project, whether it was for school or for a contest or fair, but having Fred around to keep me entertained made the process seem like less work. When we finally put the last touches on the project, I stood it up on Sam's desk and stood back.

"Nice work." Fred commented, meaning it.

"You helped."

"True. I guess I contributed well." He stood with broad shoulders and his fists at his hips. "Good thing too since Sam ditched us."

"Speaking of Sam, I wonder what's taking him so long." I looked toward the door as I spoke.

"Wanna go find out?"

I debated and concluded, "No, they might be talking about something private."

"I guess so."

We stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, for a moment too long.

"Want some gum?" Fred offered, most likely to break the silence. I peered at it and it was the Trident brand. Flavor: Wintermint.

"Sure!" I agreed. It was delicious, not to sharp and just a tiny bit sweet.

"So, what do you wanna do now?"

"Not sure…"

"We could go to your time and see if that upgrade came in." he suggested.

I pulled out my omni-watch, the device that told the time in my century and longitude regardless of the time and place I was presently in, from the compact backpack I now always brought along with me. "No, it's too early. The mail doesn't come until the late afternoon."

"Oh, that sucks."

"I guess…" I chewed my gum mindfully as I thought about things we could do to pass the time, but Fred blurted out an idea before I could get my thought process going.

"Let's go somewhere fun. Or let's do something exciting. Anything. Anywhere."

I thought his proposition over. "You mean like, go somewhere here," I pointed to the floor. "or go somewhere with The Book?" I pointed to The Book on Sam's mattress.

"With The Book!" he replied, suddenly full of energy. "Just, somewhere where we can do and say whatever we want and not alter history or the future."

I supposed an 'adventure' would've been the only thing that could have truly cheered him up. I mean, what else were guys into if not something with a little action? "Alright, let's flip through."

"Yes! Awesome!" he cheered.

I moved my backpack over and we pounced onto Sam's bed. I opened The Book up to its Index. "Umm, the American Revolution?"

"Do you want to get shot?"

"Good point… Louis and Clark Expedition? I went on that with Jodie and Freddie and Sacagawea. It was pretty great." I told him.

"Eeeeeh, I'm allergic to mosquitoes."

"Alright… Want to watch Osama Bin Laden get killed?"

"Samantha, why would you even ask that?" he asked me in sarcastic shock.

"Well, I-"

"Of course I want to see him get killed. But, on another day. Let me see that." He took the book from my lap and flipped through it.

His response surprised me for a moment, but then I remembered he was a teenage boy, and seeing the destruction of an enemy amused most of them. Fred continued to flip through the index until he reached the 'P' section, and chose a word with his eyes closed. When he opened them again and moved his finger, the word was prohibition.

"What's that?" he asked me, genuinely unaware of what the word meant.

I rolled my eyes. "Prohibition was a law active from 1919 until 1933. It was a ban on alcohol that backfired and made it cheaper instead."

"Oh, you mean like during 'the roaring 20's'?" he recalled.

"Yeah, exactly." I took The Book and opened it to the page that spoke about the era. A city was displayed with gleaming lights and another picture showed a dancing woman in a beaded tube dress. A flapper.

"You don't think we'd screw anything up in that time, do you?"

"Not at all; unless we mess with the guy that fixed the 1919 World Series."

"Oh, yeah! God that guy was a badass. We once spent an hour talking about him at baseball practice, me and the guys. Is he in the book?" He scooted closer to me to see The Book better, and I got a whiff of the cologne he was wearing.

I looked for the page that talked about him. "I think…I remember seeing him in here somewhere. Here he is!"

"Arnold Rothstein, the millionaire man that sold The Black Sox back into the Series at another chance to win." Fred read in awe. He took the book and held in delicately. Looking and the man's mug shot he added "Wow..."

"Yeah. He was really something." I let him get engrossed in the information about the man, who seemed to be his idol, and then plainly said, "So, want to go there, to old New York City?"

He shushed me sharply without looking in my direction. "Quiet."

I repeated in a whisper, "Want to go there?"

He looked up at me from the corner of his eye with an accusing look, (dang that was attractive) and then blinked himself back into the room. "Oh. Yeah, of course!" he gestured to the mug shot. "Let's go to old New York." he agreed with a brief nod.

"Just _us,_ or should we bring someone?"

He debated, looking back at me and The Book several times. I wanted to just go with Fred, but if one of our friends came along it wouldn't bother me.

"Well, defiantly not Sam since he ditched us. That and he's a paranoid fuck. No offense."

"Eh, it's true." I shrugged.

"Freddi can come if she wants, if she doesn't have her face jammed in another book that is."

"No, Freddie doesn't read over breaks. She thinks reading is work."

"Really... That's funny, people usually read to relax."

"_Most_ people. Not Freddi though." I pointed out. "What about Jodie?"

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_Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think or how I could improve. Read on peeps -_


	4. The Pick Up

"Eeeehhh..." he drifted, wanting to avoid the subject by looking around the room.

"What?" I asked monotone and bluntly.

"_Nothing_, I just don't want to talk about her." He looked down at The Book as he told me.

"No, you've always had something to say about Jodie and its never come out. Tell me." I pressed, a bit more humorously than seriously, as I scooted an inch closer to him.

He stammered. "I don't know... She just- she always smells like strawberries and it's _always_ in your face, and she would probably win a _gold metal_ if there was a sport that competed against people who were full of themselves, and she complains _constantly_ about _everything_," he confessed with hand gestures, but more accurately dragged as he told me. "And her freckles remind me of blackheads and...just...no." He looked into the distance with a twisted face, then whipped his head back toward me with wide eyes.

I raised an accusing _'really?_' brow at him.

"Don't ever tell her I said that. _Ple_ase. She'll rip me to shreds with those fake nails she always has. Don't tell her I said that either." he begged in a flurry.

I snickered. "I'll try not to. So, just Freddi and Joe then?"

"Yeah," he clarified. "If they're _free_ that is."

"Of course." I agreed.

Fred jumped off the bed and started toward the door, pulling me with a ready "Let's go!" off the bed and dragging me for a couple of feet. He apologized on the way out for pulling me to the floor. I laughed it off regardless.

•

He dragged me by my wrist all the way to Joe's block. People stared at us with confused and entertained expressions the whole way. I kept an elated grin on my face.

Fred barged in without knocking. I suspected he did that on the regular. "Hey Joe!" He finally let me go, and shut the door behind us. "I brought Samantha along with me!... We have an offer for you!" he called as we searched the house for him.

Maybe he wasn't home. _Yes_.

We searched the upstairs and downstairs, even in the bathrooms, twice. He was nowhere to be found.

"I guess they went on vacation." Fred shrugged, referring to Joe and his parents.

"And they left the door open?" I inquired.

"Oh yeah..." he realized. "Why would then do that?"

"I have no idea." I replied honestly.

"Well, let's get out and lock the door for him. He keeps a key under the indoor mat."

"I guess, but we should ask him next time we see him."

"Word."

He locked the door and we left to find an ally that could conceal our warp well. Before we did, we spit out our gum; it had lost more than all of its flavor... Anyhow, off to ask Freddi in 2111.

We found Joe sitting and talking something over with Jodie around the pop-up table that sat in the middle of the room. That explained where he was. Freddi was placed on the sofa with a face of deep concentration over a crossword puzzle in the book she owned filled with them. We got their attention when we warped in, and we asked if any of them wanted to join us after explaining what we had planned.

"Prohibition?" Joe asked.

"Why would you want to go back to the 1920's? There are rats and cockroaches _everywhere_!" Jodie asked, disgusted.

Fred rolled his eyes and growled as he sighed.

"I don't know guys... Jodie's right and, it sounds kind of dangerous." Freddi warned as she bit her pen with worry.

"Well, we just thought-" I began to explain, but Fred became aggravated and stepped in.

"You know what? We don't need them to come if they don't want to. Their loss. Let's go, Samantha." He turned his back and headed toward the automatic door without looking back.

The other 3 looked at me confused and shocked. "Sorry guys, Fred's just-" There wasn't time to explain. Fred was on the loose in the building halls. "I'll tell you guys later." I started for the door when I remembered something important. "Oh, and Joe! Your house was open and no one was home, so Fred locked it up for you!" I swiftly whipped out the key Fred handed me before we warped, and threw it at Freddi on the sofa. "Hand that to him?" I asked of her.

"Be careful you guys!" she warned one last time before I started for Fred.

~~Fred's POV~~

Stupid people; they never appreciate anything.

"Fred!" I heard Samantha call from down the hall. I didn't stop or turn around for her, even though I should have.

"Fred, wait! What was that about?" I heard her pace closer to me, and I slowed down, unconsciously, so she could catch up to me.

She grabbed me by my shoulder and turned me around. I avoided her gaze and realized there was no one else in the hallway, which provided us with extra unexpected privacy.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just- _Jodie_…" I searched for words. "She didn't need to say what she said, and neither did Freddi."

"Explain?" she asked plainly.

"I'm just _sick_ and _tired_ of people- disapproving and not trusting the things I do. It happens way too much and I'm _sick_ of it."

"Fred they were just worried, and when people get worried they tend to distrust others. Don't take it personally, they didn't mean any offense." Her voice spoke softly to me with that golden glow it sometimes had. It relaxed me rather quickly.

"You're right. Sorry..."

"Don't mention it. But, let's just remember their advice. The 20's _may_ be a bit dangerous." she reminded.

"Yes, but it's the _danger_ that makes it fun." I popped my brows up at the word 'fun' while adding emphasis.

She sighed a sarcastically tired sigh, pulled The Book out, and tapped the picture. Here we go.

~~Samantha's POV~~

We warped into an apartment and landed on a carpeted floor. The apartment was occupied by a woman in a gleaming tube dress, examining herself in a mirror with lipstick in hand. Her dress swayed when she noticed us.

"Oh hey _guys_! I've been waitin' for ya."

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_Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think or how I could improve. Read on peeps -_


	5. Preparations for First Class

The woman spoke with an accent you didn't want to deal with. It was thickly a "city lady from the Bronx" kind of accent. She spoke as if she had something stuck in her upper lip all the time, or like that cheerleader that hated just about anything imaginable.

"Uh, what do ya mean you've been waiting for us?" Fred inquired as he dusted himself off. I got up and did the same, keeping a watchful eye on the woman.

"You guys were appointed ta be here _five _minutes ago. What was the _hold_ up?" she asked us plainly.

"Who are you exactly?" I stepped in.

"I'm Freddi's _ancestah_, Frida. I got an alert sayin' you guys were comin' today to have some _fun,_ is that _right_?"

"Uh…yeah." Fred replied as he glanced at me. "That's right."

He looked at me again with a questioning look. I shrugged. "She does look familiar."

He examined her again, then stepped forward and said sternly, "I want some proof."

She opened a drawer and handed him the same book I had in my backpack. "Heeah."('Here,' only that's how she would say it in her accent)

Fred took it and flipped through it carefully. "Alright, proof enough for me." he said plainly as he handed it back to her.

"Should be, dammit." She said under her breath. I supposed she thought we were being picky, but it was for a good reason. "Now come on, let's get you two in _tune _with the _times_ and out of those _rags_. Take 'em off." she ordered.

Fred looked around and asked, "Uh- right here? Isn't there like a separate room I could go into?"

"What, you've never seen a girl in her _braziah_ (brazier) before?" Frida asked bluntly with her hand out. I stifled a laugh and answered mentally, '_Nope_.'

"I'm not gonna answer that." Fred finally said, shaking his head.

"Alroight alroight, come with _me_." she told him in a tired tone as she gestured for him to follow her.

•

Frida dressed me in a dress similar to hers, asked if she could cut off my hair, "Are you _kidding_, do you know how long it took to grow all this?!" brought me one of her wigs that turned up in the shape of a sleek bob, dirty brown in color, shoved it on me with at least a dozen bobby-pins, and then started on my make-up. She lined my eyes with black ink and smeared my features with concealer and foundation and then "fluffed me up" with a powder half a shade darker than my porcelain Russo-Italian mess.

The whole time, Fred was busy getting _his_ costume on.

I stood at the mirror and looked at my done-up face. It felt like I had a mask on, but then I remembered I agreed to let her do me up like this, and I evidently blamed Fred for picking 'prohibition' with his eyes closed. I limp wristed the whole thought and got to work on my flat lips with a bright red lipstick.

Just then, Fred came out of the room he was walked to and presented himself with his arms bent at the elbow and out. "Eh? _Eh_? What do ya think? Pretty s-_piffy_, huh?" he asked both of us as he brushed aside the corners of his suit top and planted his hands on those hips.

"Oh my _gawd_, ya look _great_!" Frida screeched.

He wore a crisp, black, expensive looking, form fitting tuxedo outfit, the suit closing on two buttons and the pants folding up at the bottom about an inch. It accentuated his shoulder and defined that athletic form of his I was jealous of. I had always wanted to be good at sports, especially volleyball, but never got the chance to improve my game. Anyhow, Fred also had sure fools-gold cufflinks at his wrists, a white long sleeved button-down under the suit with a bright blue tie, matching his eyes that completed the look. He did indeed look great.

"Yeah, you look awesome!" I complimented finally. When I did, he froze. He scanned me up and down gently and stood with his mouth cautiously agape. He suddenly straightened up and blinked back into reality once more.

"Uh- yeah I know. Thanks. I uh, I like that hair on you. And the dress too, it's nice." he stuttered.

"Thanks. I was beginning to have second thoughts about it." I stated honestly.

"Oh dawlin' _stop._ Ya look _mesmerizin_'!" Frida stated proudly, most likely at the work she put forth on her masterpiece that was me.

"Apparently." I agreed under my breath.

"Now, let me supply you two with a bit of _protection_." She slid over to another drawer and pulled out a pistol, a knife and a dull white rag. Interesting…

"Here, keep this undah your suit and _only_ use it when _completely-_ _necessary_, undahstood?" she told Fred as she handed the gun to him. "Make shuah not to take a big whiff of this eithah. Use it as a back-up if ya need to." she warned as she stuck the rag in his pocket, visibly invading his personal space.

He held the gun tightly and admired it. Looking at himself in the mirror he said, "_Aw yeah_, I look like Indian Jones!"

"Uh, I think you're thinking of James Bond." I corrected.

"Right. Him. _So badass_..."

"As for you," she began as she handed me the now known hunting knife. I revealed that it was that kind of knife when I briefly slid the protector off. I wondered where she had acquired such a weapon. She turned to get an elastic band from the same drawer, turned back and tied the knife around it. "Put that around your leg, you'll need it. _Trust _me."

"Interesting…" I repeated, this time out loud as I tied the weapon around my leg as told. Since my dress barely came down to my knees, concealing it would be a bit of a challenge…

"Yep, guns and knives: so we can be safe." Fred joked as he looked back at us.

"As strange as it might seem to ya, they're necessities. Don't question it. Everythin's gonna be fun and _fine_ anyhow, I'm _shuah_." she told us reassuringly. She then looked at the curly bush of blonde that sat at the top of Fred's head and said, "C'mere dawlin', we _gots _to do somethin' about that hair of _yours._"

"What? No, I like my hair the way it is!" he told her defensively, shielding his scalp.

"Fred, you're gonna look like a hobo in a tux with that hair. I _gotta_ fix it." she told him straight forwardly.

So he let her sit him down in the chair that rested in front of another mirror and get to work on his mess of hair.

"Oh and _one_ moah (more) thing. Do ya guys know how to walk into a first class party?" she asked as she combed the knots out.

"We're going to a party?" I inquired.

"Of course we are, Sammy, why do you think we came to this time in place?" Fred asked me playfully.

"When did I give you permission to call me 'Sammy'?" I asked, sarcastically offended.

He winced as Frida pulled his hair before he answered, "I don't know, I just-"

"No, please don't, I feel girly enough. Thanks." I told him with my hand out, stopping him, being as serious as I could to show him that I meant it. It wasn't easy to be serious with a goof-ball like Fred, but that was another story. I then smiled at him and laughed gently.

He grinned in the mirror and narrowed his eyes, briefly shaking his head.

"So, the party." I brought back.

"Sorry, I just _love_ watching you two," she laughed. We glanced at each other. "Anyhow, uh yes the party. It's going to be hosted by the nationally famous Arnold-"

Fred finished the name for her spontaneously. "-Rothstein?! Arnold Rothstein is the host!?" He whipped around to face her.

"Yeah how did ya know?"

"Anyone could have guessed I mean, what other Arnold is 'nationally famous'? Oh man, no way." He looked over at me with gleaming, excited eyes. "_No_ fucking way in _hell_…Sammy this is _unbelievable_!" He got up and gripped my upper arms.

I glanced at his hands and replied, "My name is _not_ Sammy."

"It is now." he told me with narrowed eyes again. "At least for tonight, come on. Please?" He made puppy eyes for the first time in his life at me.

"Ew, Fred!" I yelled as I pushed him off me. "Just, sit back down so she can finish you hair fool." I laughed with an angry expression.

He laughed back and sat relentlessly back down. "Just don't cut any of it off, or else." He warned his great-granddaughter's posh ancestor.

"Oh _hush,_ I won't. Now, about how to walk into a party like that. Arnold is hosting a New Yeah's party at his _winter mansion_ on Staten _Oilend_ (island). Everyone who's _anyone_ is gonna be there, and I expect you two to walk in _respect_fully." she spoke with sternness and gusto to us. While she did, she slicked Fred's hair to one side while still keeping some of its volume in the front, using a 'HOT ON THE MARKET' gel to do so. Fred grinned at himself in the mirror in response.

"How do you want us to do that?" I asked.

She picked Fred up under his arm, brought me over to his left side, a bit too close to retain a blush, and scooped my arm under his. She saw we held each other a bit cautiously, so she secured our positions by bringing us closer yet.

She stepped back and we glanced at each other. "Just like that." Frida smiled. "Think you can remember that?"

"Sure." Stated Fred plainly.

"Works for me." I replied. The blush was too vivid and warm to conceal now. I didn't look back at Fred in order to hide it better, and I was sure he was blushing too, judging by the heat that was coming from him.

"Alrioght, wondahful! Now, how about some seductive scents, _hmm_?" Frida offered as she pulled them out from her mirror-table drawer. The drawers this woman had…

That gave Fred and I time to separate from our awkward holds. Not knowing what to do with himself, clearly, he stuck shaky hands in his pockets.

Frida suddenly spritzed me numerous times with the sweetest sent I had ever encountered, and did the same to Fred, chasing him around the house a few moments later.

I coughed viscously a few times, then called out, "I need some air!"

I walked over to the window and opened it up to let in a bit of cool, December air. The room had suddenly gotten temperate, and it wasn't from the perfume…

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think or how I could improve. Read on peeps -_


	6. Into 1920: Part 1

~~Fred's POV~~

Frieda eventually got me with 5 sprays of cologne. I smelled like gleaming silver. Not too bad in my opinion. She then made a call to her chauffeur and later taught us a few dances of the time while we waited for him.

My moves weren't the best, but Samantha seemed to get them in a snap. So I admired her as I tried to catch on in the background. I wasn't a bit upset. She looked fantastic and so cheery it made me blush. I hated it when I couldn't tell why I was blushing. Why was blood even a thing?

The driver finally came around 9:30pm. None of us felt the effects of the time since we left Sam's room around 2 pm. The drive was anything but awkward and boring. I watched the populated and exuberant world pass by out every window the antique car offered. The city lights were so bright and vibrant they made our energy rise further.

At one point in our drive, I glanced at Samantha; she was glowing. The smooth dirty blond wig suited her in the most perfect way, and the silver clip that held its bangs back just added to her perfection.

Damn, I can really write!

Arnold then popped into my mind. I wondered about his house, more accurately his mansion, and hoped it would compare to that of Gatsby's in every way. That guy owned a palace on Long Island, and it was a shame he was a fictional character.

But never mind the house; I was going to freaking meet Arnold! and that was enough to make me go to the party.

I had a good feeling about tonight.

When we arrived, Frida presented a clean slice of paper that later revealed itself as an invitation.

"You got invited?" Samantha asked, shocked.

"Of _couas_, I'm way up there if ya didn't _know_." she stated proudly. Looks like I needed to look into my past a bit more.

The party was booming, and I mean booming. Glass shook from the music played by the 4 different bands spread around the house, filling the mansion with a jazzy blend of tunes. I was never a fan of old-timey music, but this stuff was hoppin'. They played one song after another that sounded like today's '_Uptown Funk_' and '_Happy_' and Bublé's '_Save the Last Dance_.'

With all of the celebrated and popular people about, the house heated itself. There was hardly room to take a clearing breath. Windows were open to prevent sure suffocation. Samantha and I walked about in utter amazement as Frida babbled to us junk about the house, how and why it was built and something about the plumbing. I didn't give a crap.

The walls were cream colored and marble columns held up the arched ceilings on the top floor. The thousands of lights made the place glow and gleam a warm golden. It was a 3 story crib that made the ones around it look like premature babies. I loved it.

People walked with purpose and pounding struts. They knew who they were. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The energy of it all was overwhelming in the best way.

Frida, Samantha and I stayed in a tourist group until a friend of Frida's came to her and asked a dance from her.

How could she refuse?

Suddenly, one of the million waiters about came up to us and bowed a silver platter of clear liquid. I looked at Samantha questioningly and she shrugged, taking a glass. I did the same with some hesitation.

"Doesn't he know that teens can't drink?" I asked, realizing now that I sounded innocent as ever. Ew...

"Fred, we're in the early 1900's. Back then, _everybody_ drank, and they drank _too_ _much_ at that." she explained.

I took a whiff of the drink, and boy did it smell nasty.

"What is this, liquid knock-out gas?" I asked.

Samantha laughed as she replied. "You could say that. I think it's either tequila or vodka." She stirred the drink and peered at it as we continued to walk on the second floor of the mansion. Since it was the middle of the house, the heat swirled and made me break a sweat on my forehead. I had to take off my tux to keep me from sweating like a pig. I held it on my left arm as I held my drink in my right hand. "I've never had a drink in my life. You know that?" she added.

"No I didn't." I laughed. "I had a beer once but, it was really just to be polite. It tastes like liquid bread to be honest." I admitted.

She laughed and we stopped by the railing and looked out on the excited people. My eyes drifted back to Samantha quickly. I couldn't keep them off her... I just hoped she wouldn't notice or ask about it.

"Let's try it." she spontaneously suggested.

"This?" I held up the glass.

"Yeah. Why not? It is just one." she shrugged.

I raised a brow along with a devious grin. Looking back at the glass and raising it to my mouth slowly, I said, "On three. One... Two..."

"_Three_!" she finished.

We took a wild swing, and I nearly did a spit-take. After we swallowed, our faces contorted like never before. It was a sight to see, and I laughed my ass off as I coughed.

Samantha did the same.

And before we knew it, one drink lead to another, until we counted 4 full glasses each.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think or how I could improve. Read on peeps!_


	7. Into 1920: Part 2

At that point I had lost my sense of time and orientation severely. All I could remember were bits of dancing, fits of laughter, and blurred gleams of dresses.

~~Samantha's POV~~

As drunk as I was, I knew we had to end this spree before we made an unconscious mistake. I dragged a disoriented Fred to a room that turned out to be the library and pulled out The Book.

"Whaddya have_ that_ out for?" he slurred.

"We need to sober up you _freak_." I laughed. I had an amazing memory, as I had been told numerous times, and apparently alcohol didn't change that. The only thing it did affect was my step and my speech. I basically laughed everything I said.

"Nah, not _yet_... Let's just have _fun_." Fred continued.

"No dude." I pulled The Book away from him as he tried to take it from me. "You're a mess and so am I. We didn't come here to do that." I searched for the page that cured a person in a drunken state.

"_Samantha, Sammy_ come on babe, don't stress. It's _fine_. Look around, we're in a library, no one is going to get us here." He stepped closer and closer to me as he spoke, then put his hand over The Book and added in a gruff, playful tone, "Let's just _have fun_."

I looked at him with an annoyed face, my brow raised, but I could feel that stupid grin pasted still, which made my expression and feeling invalid. "You know, I think there is another three-lettered word you are trying to substitute for '_fun_,' and that word we are not having." I turned my back to him and continued to flip until I finally found the page.

"What? No, no_ way_. _Sammy,_ I just want to have some fun with you."

"We did have some fun already, didn't we? We danced to like, _20_ songs out there!" I pointed to the door, still laughing as I spoke.

"I guess..."

Before he could say another word, I tapped the button on the page that read '_detoxify another_,' and the green mist swirled Fred for a few seconds until he was sober again.

"W- what? What the-" He held his head as he steadied himself. "Wow. What did you just do?"

"Sobered you up, stupid." I then tapped the other button that read '_detoxify self_' and was healed in a matter of seconds as well. I took a deep breath and said. "Awesome. Arg, my face hurts now."

"Why?" Fred asked. I supposed he didn't remember much of the night.

"I was smiling a lot when I was drunk." I stated plainly. He chuckled.

His face then quickly morphed to that of concern as he asked, "Wait, did I do or say anything that- well that could have been inappropriate?"

I debated momentarily if I should tell him that he did, numerous times, but that didn't seem like the best choice. "No, not really. Not that I can recall, anyway. All I know is that you danced all crazy when you were high on that liquid gas." I chuckled.

"Alright." Fred laughed. "Good..."

When we exited the library, we were met by a spunky Frida. Well, a more-spunky-than-usual Frida.

"There you guys are! I want you to meet the host: Arnold Rothstein!" She held him by his shoulders as she presented him to us.

He stepped forward, took my hand, and kissed it gently, acknowledging me then as "Madam." An arm came around from my left side and brought my hand back down, ultimately detaching Arnold's hand from mine. It was Fred's hand. "A simple '_Hi_' would've been enough."

Arnold blinked in slight surprise as I glanced at Fred with my brow raised. He gave the millionaire and intense look. "I'm sorry, are you together?" he asked politely and innocently.

"No, no we just- I-" He stuttered over his words as he tried to form a sentence. "It was just- inappropriate." he finally shrugged, sliding his hands in his pockets.

"Ah," Arnold nodded understandingly. "My apologies."

I glanced over at Frida. She was surprisingly still and quiet amidst the party, most likely in awe at Rothstein's presence.

He quickly changed the subject. "Now, I have a proposition for you. How would you like to make a little- a little clean money?"

"Clean money?" I echoed.

"Yes. Something, under-the-table, but I assure you it's nothing illegal."

"Why _us_?" Fred asked, glancing at me.

A man then burst out of the crowds of guests in the hall where we spoke, and hooked Frida under her arm. "Hey, _there_ ya are!"

"Oh! Michael, I'm _so glad_ to _see_ ya!" she greeted. "This man is my personal _designer_." she told the lot of us. She really must be 'up there' if she has someone design her clothes.

"How's 'bout we secure ourselves a seat for the show later, ah? I think we deserve a good view." Michael suggested.

"Oh _yeah_, let's do that. I'll catch you guys latah." They swooped past us and to the stairs that lead to the bottom floor. Frida called one last thing before she vanished. "Meet me back at the apartment!"

"Oh yes." Arnold said as he reminded himself, "The firework show will be starting shortly. Won't you join us?"

"Sure, but where is it going to be shown?" Fred asked.

"Right in my backyard, over the water. But it's no rush," He glanced down at his watch. "You still have about a half hour before they start."

A waiter came by and bowed Arnold an amber drink with cubed ice floating about in it. He gratefully took one and cheered us as he walked off and said, "Happy New Year."

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think or how I could improve. Read on peeps!_


	8. Glory Stealers

I turned to Fred and asked with a grin, "So what did you think of him?"

"Ah, he seems like an- interesting character, a good guy. It was a little underwhelming though…I just- didn't like that gesture he gave and greeted you with."

"Why?" I knew exactly why. "He was just being polite." I shrugged.

"I guess so… Whatever." Fred played off. "What do ya want to do to pass the time?" he asked.

I looked around the house at the bottom floor, and simply stood leaned against the marble railing, breathing in the dissipating thickness in the air, the smell of the celebration that had just taken place. Lead singers planted in front of the bands scattered about announced that the show would begin shortly, and suggested getting a good seat. The gleaming mansion began to dim as mounds of people left it and headed to reserve spots for the pyrotechnic show.

~~Fred's POV~~

I stood, with my hands still in my pockets, planted tensely by the railing and Samantha as she surely thought of a response to my question. I was glad she wasn't facing me and that she took time to just do nothing. It gave me time to reflect a bit.

What an idiot I was, speaking openly about Arnold's gesture. That guy was 50 times the man I was and could have thrown me out of the party for all I knew. Not only that, it also got Samantha confused. I promised not to drop any rough hints about the fact that I wanted her... Looks like I let myself down once again.

The only upside to my gesture was the possible fact that telling her wouldn't be so much a surprise. Possibly. Hopefully.

She turned to me, her body leaned effortlessly on a hand planted against the railing, and said lightly, "Let's go outside. I want some fresh air."

I remembered it was December. "Alright, yeah." I shrugged. "But, don't you want to get your coat first?" What was I saying? Samantha took a breath to answer but I adjusted my words quickly and cut in with, "Actually, no. Here, you can have my tux. The cold air will do me some good. Been sweatin' like a pig all night."

I wasn't sure if that was the better option either, but she laughed and took it by the collar, then draped it over her arm as she commented, with obvious sarcasm, "Hot."

We made our way down the crowded stairs and to the open space by the front door, guarded by two well dressed, well muscular—not more so than I was of course—servants. They opened the door for us and wished us a good night. I nodded thankfully as Samantha walked past proudly.

The December air hit me with refreshing power, and I breathed it in through my nose. "Ah," I let out. "Good decision, coming outside."

"I know my stuff." she remarked with a grin.

From the top of the stairs the boats could be seen lined up, equally spaced. Staten Island's bay gave enough room for the 'works.

"Come on, let's peruse his fantastic garden." Samantha remarked again as she skipped down the stairs, now with my tux draped over her shoulders. It was beautiful...

Dammit, I needed to stop.

We walked among the trimmed trees and delicately arranged flowers that somehow still grew. The cool air helped me clear my head a smidge... It wasn't a chilling coolness but more of a refreshing one. I kept my hands warm in my pockets as I thought back into the New Year's night, the crowded nature of it along with the roar of people and music. It made my head spin and take part in something I never once did in my life, not even at Semi-Formal: dance. I was surprising comfortable, in a sort of unconscious way, dancing around Samantha. She had a lively nature that set you free from yourself, made you detach from all the wrong in the world, all the wrong in yourself.

My thoughts got cut off as we heard yelling from behind us and saw several men come out from behind the corner, one of them with a gun in their hand.

"Get back, put your hands up! Now!" one of them commanded. We did out of instinct and startlement. Then Samantha asked nonchalantly, "Why, what do you want from us?"

"Oh, we'll let ya know in a second." the man holding the gun told her threateningly. "Git her bag!" he added.

Samantha fought to keep her bag since it had The Book in it, but once the gun-wielding man pointed at her, she stopped and put her hands back up.

"What do you know about Arnold?" the gun man pressed.

"What are you talking about we don't know anything." I answered, annoyed.

"Yeah, what makes you think we do?" Samantha added.

The man searching her bag had called 'the boss' over to look at The Book. He glared at it with awe then turned back to us with suspicion. "You don't know nothin', eh?"

There was a pause and then Samantha burst, dropping her hands, "We won't tell you a thing, no matter what you do to us!"

"Is that your favorite saying?! Look at these guys! They can hurt us in ten different ways!" I whisper-yelled.

"Either you tell us what you know, or one of you gets it." Another man reached in his suit and slowly pulled out a razor sharp knife.

They inched toward us, and, most likely out of fear, Samantha whipped out the knife strapped to her leg and held it behind her head, ready to throw. That sent the arms of one man flying up and shaking almost instantly. "Either you let us go, or you'll get it."

"Hah! You wouldn't dare." one of them remarked.

I whipped her a frightened glare and hoped she wouldn't do it, but she threw the knife with all her might, clenching her teeth as she did. It hit one of them in the neck, and he choked to his knees.

Terrified, but not wasting another second, I dashed for my tux that had fallen off Samantha's shoulders and now lay on the ground. Reaching in the hidden pocket of the suit, I whipped out the pistol and pulled the top trigger back. Just then a firework went off, and somehow, I managed to pull the trigger simultaneously, shooting a hole straight through the gun man's hand. I whipped my head back to her and saw her terrified expression. It probably reflected mine. Another one came at me of the five there were, and somehow we took them down, punching and stabbing ruthlessly.

I grabbed the last one who dared come at me and clenched him by his collar, pinning him up against the concrete wall of the building. "What did you mongrels wants from us?" I demanded. He struggled to get free. "Tell me!" I held the gun tightly to his head.

"Boss! Boss, he wanted to take Arnold's spot. He wanted to take his glory so he could be rich. That's all, I swear!" he admitted, his voice shaking the whole time.

Instead of pulling the trigger, I brought the gun behind and swung it back around, knocking the man out cold. I spit at him before unloading the weapon and placing it back in my suit where it had been, picking it up in the process.

The whole time fireworks shot up and lit the night sky with color.

Samantha, looking like she was more than near to puking, flipped through The Book and said a spell over the now deceased men, along with the knocked-out man. They turned into tiny green specks of dust and flew up and away into the air. She then, with a jolt, slammed the text shut, threw it at me, ran to the nearest trimmed tree and sure enough, she let it all out.

•

Samantha and I stood admiring the 'works, my suit back on her shoulders, until they were over and the people began to leave. Sure they were loud, but they were worth it; she cleaned up before we came to watch, and the way the lights emitted the way they enhanced her features and lit her up even more was beyond comprehension. Not only that, but we had met another historical figure: Henry Ford. He walked up to us in the middle of the show and greeted us casually and asked if he could prop himself next to us. I said, "Sure, why not?" and he stood beside us all the while. It wasn't until the end that he revealed to us his identity. He was another one to remember.

Damn, I can _really_ write. C'mon, I can't be the only one that thinks so.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think or how I could improve. Read on peeps, one more chapter left! :3_


	9. Laws

~~Samantha's POV~~

We found a secluded corner and warped out of 1920, first to my place to change out of the costumes we acquired, and then back to my great grandfather's shabby old room. We decided not to meet back at Frida's apartment in the end, not wanting to get into another tangle of some sort. I bet she figured, mumbled a few things to herself, but ultimately didn't mind.

When we warped back to Sam's room, we fortunately landed on our backs and then just laid there, flopped out like pancakes.

"That was some party, huh?" Fred sighed.

"Hell to the yeah." I replied.

"Word." he laughed.

"What are we going to tell Sam?"

"Whadya mean?"

"Well, ever since I cheated on my science test I've been against lying, so…"

"Then I won't make you lie. I'll lie if he asks. If he doesn't then that makes it all the better."

"Alright alright, I guess so." she said, finally convinced after some thought.

"Ya see? I got yo back, Samantha."

"Don't try to be ghetto."

"Sorry…"

The whole while we were staring up at the ceiling making up things to say, one after the other. I then simply laid there with my eyes shut, focused on my breath and nothing else, until the silence lingered in the room for a moment too long. When I opened my eyes, they fixed themselves on the ceiling once again, and blinked into focus, and looked over to the right where they found Fred's looking at them. My eyes had never been so happy to see those bright blue ones.

I kept my expression somber as his eyes laced mine silently. For the longest time I hadn't noticed anything other than them; not the fact that his hat was missing, not that he was propped up on his hand elbow, not even the grin that curled his lips. I hadn't noticed anything for the longest time. I was too comfortable and safe to.

His expression changed suddenly and he took a deep breath in through his nose and blinked himself back to reality, looking away from me. Once he did it, I did it, and we sat up, rubbing our eyes.

"Sorry." He said it in a voice that sounded like he had just woken up. Before I could answer, he continued. "But, um… I- I uh- I want to tell you something Samantha. Something that- I have been- that has been lingering inside me for…far too long." I looked at him with alert eyes.

~~Fred's POV~~

She looked at me with alert eyes, sharp ones, but not so sharp that they cut through you. No, these eyes were half in shock and half in confusion, but they were still Samantha's. I took another breath in, blinked, keeping my eyes on hers, and straightened up. "Ever since that day you warped in because of Mad Jack, ever since that one accident, I've never seen you the same way. And, what I mean by that is…like," Dammit. I looked at the hand I used and tried to form my words. "On that day, we sort of, connected in a way that I didn't know we could. I never thought, before that day that- we could be good friends, close friends… But then, that day came along and…it just, changed me."

Before I could say another word, I unconsciously flashed my eyes back up into hers, froze, glared into them gently, and leaned forward, kissing her straight on the lips, eyes closed and all. Keeping them on hers for far too long, she took me by my collar and kissed me back. My hands met her waist, and I held onto her tight. Our mouths joined together over and over and before either of us knew it we were participating in a make-out session. My mind was lost, but I could feel her running her fingers through my hair and down my neck and shoulders. I ran mine all over her back and through her glistening, unbelievably soft hair as well.

We must have realized the same thing at the same time as we separated and glared at one another with pleasure and then horror. Jutting our arms back, we moved apart and caught our breath. Samantha was the first one to shake her head and look away, but I could tell it was more to keep the same thing from happening again than it was in shame.

Damn. I really hoped it wasn't in shame.

•

We looked to the cherished Book for what to do next. We sat next to each other, avoiding eye contact as much as possible, because every time we so much as glanced at one another, some force would glue them back together and we'd have to force them apart.

Samantha kept looking and looking until, boom! She glanced over the page, then then flipped the ones that came before and after it, both blank. "That's weird." she said slightly hushed and to herself.

"What?" I asked.

"I've never seen this page before." Her brows sat furrowed on her forehead and her expression was laced with deep confusion. It lightened a bit when she began to read off the page's contents slowly, absorbing every word as I did:

"Laws Regarding Time-Crossed Relationships:

1- Obtaining a friendship with a person, regardless of gender, from another place in time is permitted and therefore legal under these laws.

2- Embracing, hand holding, or touching of any kind is permitted under the STRICT condition that the gestures _do not_ advance.

3- Kissing: cheek and farewell kisses are permitted under the STRICT condition that they _do not_ advance. Mouth to mouth contact is permitted if it is to save a life. Kissing one that exists in a different place in time to show affection may lead to consequences and complications to the space-time continuum and future of both beings, therefore is illegal according to these laws.

4-Dating or having personal relationships with a person the same age or older than yourself but from a different time, year wise, puts the order of the space-time continuum and future at the high risk of tipping out of balance, and therefore is STRICTLY FORBIDDEN."

There was a pause. We looked at each other. I looked back at the book in disbelief. "Tha- that's it? That's all you're going to tell us?" I asked it.

"Fred, it's not going to respond to you." Samantha said as she closed the text and set it down. She then looked thoughtfully at the carpeted floor.

I joined her in thought. '_Just when I thought things were going to get better. Then those shits pop up_…'

"Well, it did say that the first three things _were_ permitted as long as they didn't advance." she pointed out.

"Well yeah, but what does that mean exactly?"

"I think it means that we can do what we want as long as-" She paused and looked up at me with her brows raised awkwardly.

"As long as what?"

"You know… As long as…we…" she gestured with her hands and made faces and tilted her head in all different ways to try to get me understand.

~~Samantha's POV~~

No matter what I came up with to get the idea across, nothing got through to him. He eternally sat with a blank confused expression, his mouth curled down, blinking more than he should have.

I let out a hard sigh. "I think it's saying that we can do those things as long as we don't end up having _sex_, you fool." I spoke rather loudly at the start of my sentence, but brought my voice down as I crept toward the "s" word. I was uncomfortable saying it, alright?

"Oh! Oh…_oh_… Oh alright, I gotcha now." He looked off into the distance and nodded until it swished around in his mind enough.

I looked away and rolled my eyes dramatically. "Yeah…" I added, sighing.

"Well…" Fred began, sounding thoughtful. I slowly drifted my gaze over to him and he popped his up at me before he mumbled, "Dammit…"

A sudden and inappropriate idea drifted into my mind, and my mouth spit it out without a second thought. "We _could_ be friends-with-benefits." I kicked myself mentally harder than I ever did then.

He shot up and glared at me with exaggerated brows at first, but then visibly thought over my proposition, which I really wish that he hadn't, and said, "We _could _be…if you could- somehow get some… twenty-second century protection."

We glared at each other momentarily before bursting out laughing with a sloppy snicker.

Fred brought the outburst down. "No but, think about it-"

I cut him off after that. "Um, no. Let's not. Thinking about- you know, whatever this is, is not going to make it easier to understand." He looked to the side and nodded to himself, convinced that what I said was true. "Let's just leave it alone, leave our friendship alone and, if anything comes up, we'll refer to the Laws again. As a memory-jogger, you know?"

"Yeah, I gotcha. It just… sucks. Almost hurts…just a bit."

But I knew it was more than a bit.

Sam came back up to his room and examined the poster board Fred and I had finished, impressed with our work, and shocked that Fred actually took part in helping. We talked amongst each other like usual, but I couldn't help but notice that a light had burnt out in Fred's eye. Every time he looked over at me, whether I was talking or not, there was something that was there before that had vanished. But The Book was right. If those "gestures" had and ever did advance, and goodness forbid we ended up as parents, then the continuum would most defiantly be throw off balance. Way off balance.

So I suppose you could say the Laws were created for the better, but I'm not so sure about that. The more I looked into his eyes, the more convincing you had to do.

But perhaps he just needed time to let it all sink in: Freddi's ancestor, the party, Arnold, Henry, the Laws…the kiss. Yeah, that's what we both needed. Time to process things…

* * *

_Thanks for reading, and thank you for your time! Please review and let me know what you think or how I could improve._


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